


Starvation To Kill

by ikikcr



Category: DCU (Comics), Gotham (TV)
Genre: Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2018-12-17 19:27:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11858118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikikcr/pseuds/ikikcr
Summary: I've been thinking about headcanons about Edward Nygma's past and his mental state and what affected his personality and his intentions on his journey to become The Riddler so much recently. And these thoughts became so powerful that I wanted to write about them because it really makes sense. Also Edward Nygma is a very relatable character for me. His mental issues always get uncredited and people hate on him for that. I can't say that he hasn't done bad things but his mental status is really affecting him on his journey and it becomes really understandable when you put yourself in his place. So, I hope that story helps you to empathise with him. (Also that's my first work so don't be mean or I'll kick your ass)





	Starvation To Kill

**ED'S P.O.V.**

It's a Tuesday night. I'm going in from the door of the house I've lived very long time ago. Actually, it hasn't been that much longer but it feels like it was centuries ago. It's been three days since I broke out from Iceberg Lounge. Oswald knows that I'm smart enough to not come here, I don't think that he's gonna search here. Here is the place which I lost all my career and life after all. Me coming here would be ironic and ridiculous. Well then, why am I here? I don't know either. I'm closing the door as I come in and looking around. The bed that Oswald slept in when I saved him from the cops, the piano which I tried to sing&play his mother and his' song to cheer him up, my fridge that he completely destroyed by eating everything and my kitchen table that we ate Chinese food together... I remember the night that he fell asleep in my bed. I smile a little bit. I remember how I compared him with a vulture, how I barely fell asleep on my worktable not to disturb him, how I couldn't sleep and watched him all night, not that I was aware of my feelings, because I couldn't decide if he looked like a vulture or a penguin. Like, I accept that he looks like a penguin because he has a walking disability and it makes him look like a penguin etc but he also looks so much like a vulture. I even opened my animals book and tried to compare him with the pictures in it, but it was hard to compare him with something because he was sleeping and he sleeps deadly for god's sake. Then I realize how much time I spent thinking about him, as always. I smile a bit more and go to check my kitchen cabinet. I get very happy when I see the wine bottle I've been keeping since last year. I stare out of the window after pouring a glass of wine for myself. Gotham has bigger problems than me at the moment, so I don't think that they would be looking for me. I'm a little bit comfortable for that. I was keeping this wine bottle for special days, but I don't think that I'll be able to witness special days anymore. But I don't know what I'm celebrating.


End file.
